Giving In is Giving Up
by lowi
Summary: Albus' mind was set; he could do this, he knew Scorpius enough. Written for the Song & Pairing Competition at the HPFC. Slash.


_A/N: Written for the __Song and Pairing Competition!__ at the __HPFC__. The pairing Albus/Scorpius and the song "Tonight I'm loving you" with __Enrique Iglesias__ were given. Many thanks to mew (__mew-tsubaki__) for betareading!_

**Giving In is Giving Up**

_I know you want me_  
_I made it obvious that I want you too_

Albus swallowed hard as he could sense Scorpius (his best mate, his partner in crime, his _brother_) stare at him from across the room. He couldn't give in now.

Scratch that, he _wouldn't_ give in now. He wouldn't, he shouldn't, he couldn't, because if he did, he knew he could still not really get what he wanted, and if he did, everything could be destroyed, and if he did, he would regret it and would do anything to take it all back.

Which he of course couldn't.

Content with his mind's brilliant work, he smiled at Scorpius, who raised his eyebrows in answer, and turned around to find someone to talk with at this _oh so_ funny party. They were in the Gryffindor common room, celebrating a victory against Ravenclaw earlier that day.

"Hey, Al," someone said, bumping her hip into his.

"Hi, Roxie, what's up?" Albus asked when he realized to whom the disheveled hair and dark, glinting eyes belonged.

"Ah, you know, nothing special. Nicely played today, cousin dearest." Roxanne grinned, and Albus wondered how it was possible for his younger cousin not to be affected at all by the amount of firewhiskey she had been downing just half an hour ago.

"Why, thank you," Albus answered, blushing as usual. It was odd; when he was on his broom he didn't mind having everyone's eyes on him—he didn't even notice it. But back on the firm ground, when someone complimented him or simply mentioned Quidditch, he just wanted to go into hiding.

Roxanne's eyes suddenly landed on something behind Albus. "It seems like Scorp is determined to talk with you—_or _me, though I doubt that."

Albus turned around and suddenly felt Scorpius' hand on his back. "I need to speak with you," Scorpius said in his ear after smiling brightly at Roxanne, who rolled her eyes and returned to Lysander, who seemed to be close to passing out.

"About what?" Albus asked, not daring to move and face Scorpius properly; they would be too close then.

"Just come," Scorpius said and grabbed him by his hand, pulling him out through the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's stern questioning.

"Where are we going?" Albus asked under his breath when they were almost by the Entrance Hall. He didn't raise his voice as he didn't want anyone to notice them—and because he was afraid it would break. Scorpius still held his hand.

"Out," Scorpius answered simply, and Albus' eyes couldn't let go of how Scorpius' blonde locks swarmed around his head like an aura in the soft light of the torches.

Albus knew there was a reason as to why he shouldn't be out here with Scorpius, something really important he had stated earlier, but he could no longer remember it. The only thing he could think of was the electricity that zinged through his body as Scorpius still didn't let go of his hand. He hadn't dropped it even once and the coolness that shot through it was so cold, and yet so warm.

He simply didn't know if he was freezing or burning himself, but it was the best feeling in the world. And he couldn't think of anything else, so when Scorpius suddenly sat down at the ground, pulling Albus with him, he snapped back to reality with a start.

"Wha—?"

Scorpius smirked softly, and when Albus wobbled a bit to get into a comfortable position, he laughed. "How much did you drink?"

"Nothing," Albus answered with raised eyebrows. "Nothing at all, actually." Though he almost _felt_ drunk, intoxicated by a scent that lay scattered in the air, a scent he couldn't quite place, but he somehow linked it to blonde hair and silver eyes… And realizing that fogged up his brain even more.

Scorpius nodded, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. Albus felt his ears go red as he pouted without even knowing why. He simply couldn't think of a time when Scorpius had looked at him like that. So instead of facing him, Albus looked out at the Black Lake, how its calm blackness was disturbed by the reflections of the castle's lights and how it hardly seemed to be water—it was more of a firm surface, like glass. He suddenly felt an urge to go to it and hit it, to be certain it really was water.

Scorpius still said nothing, and Albus felt himself calming down; it felt as though there was something different in the air tonight, a peaceful smell spread by the wind, which in turn was playing with the golden hairs on Scorpius' arm.

"Al…," Scorpius said suddenly, in a completely different voice.

"Yeah?" Albus turned, and then Scorpius' eyes were so close to his—not more than an inch separated their _lips_ from each other—and that was all that was on Albus' mind from then on.

_let's remove the space between you and me_

And then the feeling of finally having those lips against his, the feeling of Scorpius' warm breath against his neck, the feeling of Scorpius' still-cold hands on his chest, was all that mattered.

"Sorry," Scorpius suddenly said and pulled his head away, golden locks hanging down in his eyes.

"What?" Albus asked confusedly, leaving his hand on Scorpius' thigh, in a way challenging and being something he never thought should happen.

_gonna give you my all_  
_winter and summertime_

Scorpius bit his lower lip and looked down, the moon reflected in his grey, storming, and yet tired eyes. It pulled Albus back to when they were eleven and went to bed the first night at Hogwarts. How Scorpius' eyes had been open so long before falling asleep, how Albus had noticed them when he peeked out from his sheets. How the eyes had danced over the ceiling, as though in search for something, moving faster and faster, twirling like a tornado raging through a village until finally letting go and shutting themselves.

And Scorpius' eyes in this moment reminded Albus of that time in fourth year, too, in the Hospital Wing, when Albus had had a concussion and been resting because of the exhausting rehabilitation and had woken up and seen Scorpius sitting next to him staring out a window, eyes flaring, the silver core deepest inside of them being on ice-cold fire, throwing and swallowing everything in his surroundings. Albus had lain there watching those eyes, until Scorpius had noticed he was awake.

_nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do_

But this time was what he would remember best, Albus realized. Because never before he had seen the way Scorpius' eyes danced this close, never before had their swirling been because of him, and never before had they glinted like a tragic knight in his shining armor, one second devouring the object of his focus out of hunger, the next being engulfed by a tranquil sea.

"Nothing," Scorpius said then, more silent than ever, and once again his lips meet Albus'.

_tonight I'm loving you_

The warmth that spread in Albus' body, the heat—it threatened to devastate him and make everything unreal, but then Scorpius' hands were on his, clutching them and cooling them until there was only ice and ice and ice left.

Until there was nothing left.

Albus stayed on the beach for hours after he had gone. When Scorpius had slipped away from him, with the faintest of blushes decorating his cheeks, Albus' whole body had been turned into an ice statue.

And ice statues were unmovable. And it hurt even more when it was a flame trapped in a cage of ice and the flame was beginning to fade away and die.

Things would never be the same between them and Albus would always regret that he had given in. That he had dropped his defenses, showed his most vulnerable side for Scorpius, that he had forgotten how he had promised himself not to let Scorpius come that close. Because he had known it would end as it had ended this time, he had known it so well. He had seen it so many times, how Scorpius had done this to other people, so he had vowed never to become more than his friend.

But he had failed. So hard.

Still, he would never forget this night either, because no matter how much he wanted to, Scorpius' eyes would return to him in his dreams, telling tales of what _could_ have been if they were in a world up in the clouds.

But those silver orbs would come to him in nightmares, as well, with a tainted laughter and push him down into the deepest of pits where no light was allowed in—and there would be no red flame which could have healed him, but no silver ice either for comfort.

And in the end, when he wasn't able to fight any longer, the nightmares would become Albus' reality, bringing him down so deep that he couldn't get up. And Scorpius? Well, he was long gone already; he had been ever since he had left Albus by the lake.

_you stuck with me_  
_I'm stuck with you_


End file.
